


Chess

by ProgramasaurusRex



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProgramasaurusRex/pseuds/ProgramasaurusRex
Summary: Severus doesn't feel welcome in the Order of the Phoenix. Remus understands.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape
Comments: 51
Kudos: 200





	1. Chapter 1

Severus sat at the dining room table of Grimmauld Place at the conclusion of the night's meeting. The room was quite crowded, all except for the area right around his chair. Earlier, he had given his report about the plans of the death eaters, whom he had visited last night.

Severus considered the similarities and differences between the death eater meetings at Malfoy Manor and the Order meetings here, between Narcissa and Molly, Greyback and Fletcher. The same air of danger and urgency permeated both rooms. But Malfoy Manor was colder, very little laughter or banter, everyone eyeing the Dark Lord anxiously the whole time, no lingering to socialize afterwards. Grimmauld Place was, by contrast, crammed full of life, everyone chattering at once. He watched the capacious Weasley family working together to set the table for supper, Arthur teasing Bill about a new cravat he'd gotten from his French girlfriend. Hestia and Emmeline knitting their protective shield shawls, Lupin and Black flipping through a deck of Exploding Snap cards. But no one had anything to say to him, nor he to them. Different as the two meeting rooms were, he didn't belong in either. 

Severus got up to leave. A stupid thing to be bothered about, really, in the middle of a deadly war.

As he headed toward the door, Lupin caught up to him.

"That was very useful information about the plans for a muggle-born registry," he said. "Thank you. I'm sure it will end up saving at least one life."

Severus glanced sideways at him. "You're welcome," he said uncertainly.

"Wouldn't you like to stay for dinner?" Lupin asked him. "Molly's cooking is excellent."

Severus turned around, following Lupin into a side room. "So I hear," he said. "May I ask why it matters to you if I stay?"

Lupin looked down. "I spied on the werewolves in the first war, something not everyone in the Order agreed ought to be done. When I came to Order meetings, it could be uncomfortable at times; some of them feared I was going native. I have been a monster in two worlds. I can't imagine what it must be like in your situation."

"I don't need your sympathy, Lupin," said Severus.

"No, of course not," said Lupin. "I just felt rather bad about how Sirius has been speaking to you, when you're risking your neck for all of us."

"Are you his keeper?" Severus snapped.

"I am not. You're right," said Lupin. "I don't know what I mean to say. Just ... come have a bowl of soup, Severus. It'll do you good."

"No one in that room wishes to eat soup next to me," Severus said. "I have no desire to ruin anyone's evening with my presence."

"You don't give them a chance, though, do you?" Lupin said. "Severus, it's okay to ..."

"To what, Lupin?" Severus asked, his hand on his hip.

"To want to be a part of the group," Lupin said softly. "You've earned a spot here. We can't afford to act like cliquish teenagers now; this is too important. I can't help but think that you might not have become a death eater in the first place if we hadn't --"

"Ah, so you're feeling guilty?" Severus guessed. "Or afraid that I might desert the cause, if I am not welcomed with open arms? You may rest easy on that account, Lupin. My commitment to the Order of the Phoenix is deep enough not to be shaken by a room full of Aurors inching their chairs away from me when I sit down."

"Then you did notice," said Lupin.

Severus paused a moment before answering. "I could hardly fail to," he admitted.

Lupin wisely said nothing. Severus didn't know what else to say. Lupin wasn't wrong, just unexpected, and his concern wasn't unwanted, just awkward. Severus looked about and cast his eyes on an antique chess set on a table.

"Do you play?" Lupin asked.

"I have in the past," said Severus.

"Would you care for a game now?" Lupin offered.

Severus sat down. "If it will put an end to this conversation, yes."

For a few minutes, the two men sat silently, though their chess sets seemed chatty.

"A poisoned pawn? That's a muggle trick," said the white queen to Lupin. "Don't you fall for it."

Lupin and Severus both smiled at this. Severus hadn't played chess in years. He'd forgotten how distracting it could be.

Inevitably, his mind flashed back to that first game in the Slytherin common room with Mulciber, fourth year, the first time he hadn't been beneath his roommate's notice. Mulciber explaining how the game had been invented by wizards and stolen by muggles. How much better life would be if the wizards didn't have to waste their time hiding. How something like the Cuban Missile Crisis was bound to happen again, an attack so quick and powerful no shield charm could stop it, and the wizards had to seize control first. He remembered walking down the halls with Mulciber and Avery, pilfering kegs of butterbeer from the kitchens on Saturday nights and staying up until dawn debating philosophy. Pouring out the story of his horrible alcoholic muggle father at last, Mulciber and Severus cursing his name together.

He'd seen Mulciber for the first time in a decade in the graveyard in Little Hangleton, and a few times since. Severus remembered wondering what it was that had made his former classmate so irresistibly cool at Hogwarts, when he'd ended up growing into such an unremarkable adult.

Absurd to think that he'd made such a serious decision over a game of chess. It had been the principles of the movement, surely. He'd tried explaining to Lily once that she needn't worry for her parents, who had always had a reasonable attitude toward magic and didn't even practice the Salemite religion. That nobody wanted to kill all the muggles, who after all outnumbered them. They simply wanted to force the most oppressively anti-witchcraft ones to acknowledge their presence, so that the two worlds could join and the wizards could save them from themselves. It was the death eaters who had changed, growing more and more sadistic the further they advanced toward taking the government, morphing into nothing more than a group of terrorists. Severus had remained the same. Severus was never in it for the pleasure of violence, as he was too level headed to be swayed by his base emotions.

Severus won the game of chess against Remus, but it was a difficult battle. Lupin shook his hand, and they agreed that it had been a good match.

"Thank you," Severus said sincerely.

Molly Weasley poked her head into the study. "Dinner's ready," she told them. "Oh, Severus, I didn't know you were staying. I'll set another place."

Severus was tempted to agree. He hadn't had a home cooked meal in ages; his own cooking was simple at best.

"You don't mind?" Severus asked.

And Molly, who had after all raised seven children, gave him a searching look. "No, the more the merrier."

Shyly, Severus sat down at the table. He didn't say much at dinner, mostly listened. The soup really was excellent.


	2. Occlumency

Severus sidled into Flourish and Blotts as unobtrusively as he could. He'd decided to stop and pick up a book on his way to the next Order meeting. Recently, he'd been having trouble with his occlumency. The Dark Lord had definitely seemed more suspicious the last time he had peered through the minds of his followers. Severus wished to see what the experts had to say on the subject.

As a young man being taught by Dumbledore, Severus had been a natural at occlumency. Concealing his true thoughts and feelings? He'd been training for the job his entire life. All he'd had to do was act as though he still felt the way he had before he'd heard about the prophecy.

But this go around, he was finding it more difficult. Before, it had been easy enough to project joy at the sight of terrified muggles by imagining they were Tobias. Now, all he could see was Lily and her family. After the return of the Dark Lord last summer, he'd had nightmares, something that didn't usually happen to him. Last night, he'd had a particularly bad one that had left him sweaty and breathless. He'd dreamed that Lily had come to rebuke him for failing to save her and continuing to serve the Dark Lord. Since the fate of his mission relied on his continued ability to occlude, it was critical that he learn the art properly.

In the dark arts section of the store, he found only two books on occlumency. He was familiar with Tabula Rasa by Conan Boothe, as Dumbledore had read him passages from it when he first learned. It contained instructions on calming and clearing the mind, from a worldview of moral relativism. Severus had been struggling to perform some of the breathing and meditation exercises he remembered from it lately, and he hoped the book would help him refresh his memory.

The second book looked newer. It was called Moats and Bridges by Paul Davenport. The back cover boasted that Davenport had received a muggle undergraduate degree in psychology after Hogwarts, revolutionized the field of occlumency, and beaten Conan Boothe in a public mental battle a few years ago. Severus sat down in an armchair in the back of the shop and flipped through the chapter headings curiously. It seemed that instead of banishing emotions, Davenport recommended processing the emotions consciously ahead of time in order to make it easier to let them go on command. He warned that too much of Boothe's sort of suppressive occlumency could lead to panic attacks and mental breakdowns.

One could release emotions through several channels, most of which involved other people. He saw chapters about talking to friends and family, producing visual and literary art, keeping a diary, speaking to psychologists, athletic leagues, singing and dancing, even muggle religious rites such as confession. Anything involving muggles was out for Severus, of course, and talking to friends and family would be limited to people who knew his situation, so Order members only, not a pleasant prospect. He supposed he could keep a diary, although he'd be in danger if anyone found it. He didn't fancy painting pictures or kicking around a football at the local muggle park, either.

The responsible thing to do would be to speak to Dumbledore, both about his difficulties with occlumency and the emotional trauma behind them. As unofficial grandmaster of the Order, Dumbledore had a right to know that Severus was at risk of being discovered, and he might be able to help. But Severus simply couldn't do it. Dumbledore trusted and relied on him, and Severus needed that desperately. There were also no other spies available. No, Severus would simply have to correct the problem on his own.

He decided to purchase both books. It was time to get to his meeting.

Perhaps it would help him to have a casual chat with someone else in the Order about handling the strain of combat. What he was doing wasn't actually combat, of course, which was part of the strain, the fact that he had to stand by and watch without doing anything. But there might be some precedent. He believed Moody and Shacklebolt had played a role in mentoring the younger aurors at the ministry. But Moody disliked him strongly. Shacklebolt then?

As he walked through the door of Grimmauld Place, though, he realized how impossible it was. He couldn't risk anyone in the Order doubting his abilities, and in any case wouldn't even know how to bring it up. Better to have another try at Boothe's breathing exercises.

"Well, Snape," Moody asked him with a sneer, "what has the Dark Lord been up to lately?"

Severus breathed deeply. "An attack on a muggle family in Little Hangleton. The vicar's family. Nothing that would have caught the attention of the ministry."

Severus swallowed, remembering the face of the young mother, the screams of the two daughters. They hadn't understood what was happening to them at all. One moment they were sitting down to watch a film, the next their home was being invaded and they were being pierced by invisible knife points.

"We need details!" Moody declared. "Are the attacks similar in nature to before? Any plans for attacks on wizards? How is he keeping under the radar?"

Severus was breathing in great gasps now. "Only muggles. The Dark Lord doesn't like religious leaders; he blames them for the witch burnings in the past. He wipes their memories afterwards. Heals any injuries that are too conspicuous. He isn't ready for it to end up in their newspapers yet."

"What's the point, then?" Tonks demanded.

He remembered the girls clinging to their father. All of that, and Tonks was right, it was for absolutely no reason.

"Spite," he said, his foot tapping under the table, forehead perspiring. "Pure sadism. Some of his followers simply crave the feeling."

"You would know about that," said Bill coldly. "How many attacks do you think he's going to do before he comes out in the open?"

Severus wondered if occlumency worked on ordinary verbal probing. He decided to try emptying his mind and putting up his usual shield. Immediately, he felt like he'd been hit by a jinx. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't think. His vision went dark. His last thought before he passed out was how mortified he was that this should happen in front of everyone he needed to believe in him.


	3. Spell Shock

He awoke on the floor a minute later to find a crowd looking down at him anxiously. Alastor Moody was going through the contents of his bag, which he had emptied out on the table.

"Put that down!" Severus ordered weakly.

Moody set down the bag. "Had to be sure you hadn't been poisoned," he said gruffly. "Reading up on occlumency, are you?"

Severus almost wished he were unconscious again, just so he wouldn't have to explain himself.

"Did the Dark Lord just break into your mind?" asked Tonks anxiously.

"Don't be stupid, you need eye contact for that," Moody pointed out.

"He's broken into Potter's mind without eye contact," Shacklebolt pointed out. "We don't know what he's capable of. Those Dark Marks are no joke; they're a powerful magical bond. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd built some sort of back door into them."

Severus got up and sat down in his chair. Was it possible that his mind had been breached? Though he was tempted to agree, he knew there hadn't been anyone else in there. Just his memories.

"Are you feeling all right now, Severus?" asked Molly.

"Yes, thank you," he said stiffly.

The aurors looked at him questioningly.

"My mind has not been breached," he informed them. "I apologize for the interruption. Please continue."

And he got up and left the room.

Lupin followed him out. "Severus," he whispered when they had reached the hall.

"What do you want, Lupin?" demanded Severus.

"Severus, you've just passed out. Surely you're not up to apparating right now," Remus pointed out. "Come upstairs a minute, and we can discuss this."

Unfortunately, he was right. The last thing Severus needed to cap off this evening was to splinch himself.

Remus led him upstairs to what must have been his own bedroom.

"Playing house with Black, are you?" Severus asked irritably.

Remus shrugged. "I'm unemployed, and he likes the company. It doesn't make sense for me to be paying rent on my own place when I'm away more often than not."

"And by 'away' you mean you're sleeping in a tent in the forest with the feral werewolves?"

"More or less," said Lupin, sitting down on the bed.

"I suppose the mutt pines for you when you're away, though," said Severus.

Remus exhaled. "Say all the inappropriate things you like, Severus. You're not going to distract me. I'm not as easy to rattle as Sirius, you know."

Severus sat down on a sofa by the bed.

"Do you have a history of panic attacks?" Lupin asked carefully.

"Panic attacks?" asked Severus in confusion.

"That's what you've just had, isn't it?" said Lupin. "I take it this is the first time, then."

"I tried to occlude," Severus admitted. "It was a mistake."

"Why?" Lupin asked. "Did you feel an intrusion?"

Severus examined the ornate rug beside Lupin's bed. "I was remembering the attack on the vicar's family, everyone pressing at me for details, and ... "

"You were upset by the memory," Lupin supplied. "That's what the muggles call a panic attack. It's common among people who have experienced traumatic events. If you tried to occlude away that much emotion at once, it may have overloaded your mind."

Severus felt his face burning. "It won't happen again," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That book you had, Moats and Bridges," said Lupin. "I've read it before. Have you, er, tried any of the suggestions in there?"

"I only picked it up today," said Severus.

They sat in silence for a minute.

Remus softly said, "If it's a question of finding someone who knows of your predicament to ... assist you, I would be pleased to help."

"I see," Severus sneered.

"In the strictest confidentiality, of course," Lupin assured him. "You need to keep occluding, Severus, and it appears emptying your mind isn't cutting it."

"Doing your part for the war effort, then?" said Severus. "Afraid I'll let your name slip into the Dark Lord's mind?"

"Well, yes," said Remus. "Also, you appear to be in distress. I wish only to help, to understand."

"You think you could understand anything of my situation?" Severus hissed. "What were you doing the night the Dark Lord returned, having a pajama party with your beloved Sirius? I submitted to the Cruciatus Curse for an hour for my disloyalty! I watched him attack a six-year-old girl with the hex of the flaming knives and pretended to enjoy it! I see dead muggles every time I close my eyes! And then I come here and relive all of it for you judgmental pricks!"

Remus opened and closed his mouth several times. Severus realized he'd just let slip more than he meant to.

"Do you speak with Dumbledore about these things?" Remus asked.

"Of course not," said Severus, pulling up his knees. "Dumbledore has bigger worries on his mind than my mental well being. I daresay he would think I deserve it."

Remus sat down beside Severus on the sofa. "No one deserves that," he said. "Severus, you are a brave man, and a good one. But you are also human. In fact, if you were able to do what you do and feel nothing, I would be quite hesitant to trust you."

Was that why he had failed at earning the trust of some of the Order members? Severus had assumed that he must be even tougher than the others to prove his worth. Could it be the opposite?

Remus added, "They say a burden shared is half the burden."

The door opened. Moody and Shacklebolt entered.

"All right, Snape?" Moody asked. "We need to know what's going on with you. If the Dark Lord is using you to spy on Order meetings, we may need to debrief you away from the others in the future."

Severus wrapped his arms around his elbows. "It wasn't the Dark Lord," he said, red-faced but determined. "I felt a bit shell shocked for a moment, recalling that last Death Eater raid. I tried to occlude it away, and I must have overextended myself, mentally. Lupin was just talking it through with me."

To his surprise, Moody nodded in understanding. "Spell shock, you mean?"

"The muggles call it shell shock," Lupin explained.

"How could muggles get spell shock?" asked Moody.

"It's the same basic idea, but with muggle weapons," said Lupin. "Explosives and guns. The term comes from bombshells in the Great War. Some of what they get up to in their wars would make our duels look like a game of gobstones. Muggles don't have accidental magic to set off, but they get flashbacks just like we do."

"I'm sorry," Moody told Snape. "It happens to the best of us. No cure for spell shock, I'm afraid, other than a flask full of firewhiskey."

"Moody, I don't know what you learned in your auror training in eighteen ninety, but the modern course covers spell shock quite thoroughly," said Kingsley. "We've advanced a bit beyond rampant alcoholism."

Moody smiled. "Ah, well, it's served me thus far."

To Severus, Kingsley said, "I'll lend you a copy of the final year auror textbook. I've given some of the other civilians a bit of a crash course, wartime dueling and that, but I didn't think of you."

"Thank you," said Snape sincerely, "for thinking of me now."

As he left, Remus called out, "Come round any time you fancy a game of chess. I want to know what you think of that book."

Severus merely nodded. He had more to say to Remus, but he reckoned he'd said enough for one night.


	4. Sleeping Beauty

The next Order meeting went better. Most of the group was much more polite to Severus. Kingsley brought the Auror textbook he'd mentioned, which looked very informative. After the meeting, Severus stayed for dinner and joined in a polite conversation about quidditch.

But one thing inhibited him: Sirius. He was always there, of course, as it was his house and makeshift prison. And he still loathed Severus with the shameless intensity of a schoolboy. After watching Severus faint at the previous meeting, which was too mortifying to contemplate, Sirius had decided to nickname him 'Sleeping Beauty'. Remus was always sitting next to him, too. They seemed so exuberant together, laughing, touching in casual ways that brought up a faint envy in Severus.

He wanted to be able to talk to Remus in private once in awhile. He wondered what would happen if he invited Remus to visit him in his quarters at Hogwarts, although it wasn't the best place for visitors. But as he watched Remus with Sirius, he could see that he and Remus weren't proper friends at all. Remus was just trying to be kind to him. It wasn't as if Severus had anything to offer him in return.

Perhaps he should try to fix that.

"Want a game of chess?" asked Severus after dinner.

Remus agreed. As they set up the board, Severus asked, "How is it going with the werewolves?"

Remus swallowed. "Not too well. Greyback's been in contact, and he's sort of a hero to some of them."

"He does have a certain dark charisma," Severus agreed. "What is it like there, in their enclave?"

"Rough," said Remus. "Big groups of people sleeping in bunk beds in a cave underground. Some live there all the time, some only come for the full moon and try to live with muggles the rest of the time."

"What do they do when it isn't the full moon, the ones that live there?" Severus asked.

"They have a bit of farmland nearby," said Remus. "They can do magic when they want to, although the ones who were born with lycanthropy, or bitten as children, have to learn from their parents. Generally the ones who didn't get to go to school are the most ... feral. A few of them are orphans, and they look up to Fenrir, you know. The ones who did go to school are more or less normal, and more likely to just drop in for a safe spot during the full moon."

"What's it like in the cave during that time?" Severus asked.

Remus tapped his pawn thoughtfully. "Sometimes it's almost like a party," he said. "We lock ourselves in the cave, we transform, and ... everyone sort of socializes together, like a room full of dogs. There's a pile of food in the middle of the room, and old ropes and balls to play with. I can see why some of them like it. I don't feel as alone there. And it's safer, of course."

Severus nodded. "You get on well with the others?"

"Yes," said Remus, moving the queen's pawn forward two spaces. "Well, making contacts and gaining their trust was always part of the mission. I consider a few of them my friends. I don't wish any of them ill, certainly, even if I think they're fools for falling for You Know Who's lies."

"You can relate to their struggles, then," said Severus, moving his own queen's pawn forward to meet his opponent's.

"Of course," said Remus, scanning the board. "Feral or not, we all just want our rights. I want to hold an honest job again."

"What sort of job?" asked Severus, curious.

Remus pushed another pawn out and rubbed his chin. "You know, when I was in school, I wanted to be an auror," he admitted. "I got an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts. As did you, I hear. I'm a bit old to start down that path now, though."

"What about a job that doesn't require regular office hours?" Severus suggested. "You could make something, or write something, or study something."

"After the war, perhaps," said Remus absently, getting his bishop out.

"There's a lot of things that are going to have to wait until after the war," Severus agreed.

"Speaking of that," said Remus, "how goes the occlumency?"

"Better," said Severus. "I've started a journal."

"What do you write about then, Sleeping Beauty?" asked Sirius, who had appeared quite suddenly. "Nightmares?"

Severus clenched a fist. Remus shot Sirius a look of reproach.

"You're winning then, Moony," Sirius observed, nodding at the chess board.

"I suppose I am," Remus agreed tensely.

When Sirius left, Remus whispered, "Sorry. He's rather on edge these days."

Severus stared down at the chess board, lips pressed together, trying to come to a decision.

"Would you like to come round mine sometime over the Christmas holidays?" he asked quietly. "I have a house in Cokeworth."

Remus smiled softly, as if he understood what it had cost Severus to ask. "All right, then," he said. "Checkmate."

Severus didn't mind losing.


	5. Spinner's End

Severus shot another nervous cleaning spell at the countertop. Remus was going to be here in ten minutes. Severus hadn't had a guest at his home in years, other than door to door canvassers. The local vicar hadn't bothered him in a long time, not since The Incident. His mother had been living with his stepfather for several years now, so he didn't even have her for company anymore.

Right on time, Remus rang the bell. Severus let him in.

"Hello," said Remus. "Good Christmas?"

"All right. I went to visit my mother," said Severus.

"Yes, I went to visit my parents as well," said Remus. "My mum's a muggle, so she's aging faster than my father, which can't be very nice for her."

"The perils of mixed relationships," said Severus. "My father finally divorced my mother and is currently drinking himself into an early grave. My mother is on her second marriage."

They sat down on the sofa. Severus was struggling to remember how one entertained a friend. "Would you care for something to drink?" he asked. "Tea? Wine?"

"Tea, please," said Remus.

Severus wondered briefly if it was considered degenerate to offer a guest wine at four in the afternoon, even if it was really good elf made wine, then decided he and Remus were past worrying about something that small. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned in a short while with a pot of P.G. Tips, a pint of milk, a handful of sugar packets, and two mugs. Remus added two packets of sugar to his, and they drank in silence for a few minutes.

"How is Hogwarts?" asked Remus. "I've heard some rather horrible things have been happening."

"I assume you are referring to Professor Umbridge," said Severus. "A most interfering sort of woman, very unpleasant for all of us. Doesn't even bother to give lectures, much less practical lessons. Just tells the students to read silently for the entire period."

"And that's the woman who was considered more qualified than either of us," Remus mused.

"Quite," said Severus. "My only consolation is that she is bound to leave us at the end of the year."

"Then you believe in the curse," said Remus.

"With the faith of a pilgrim," said Severus. "We haven't had the same defence professor for more than a year since the fifties. I do hope in her case it's something violent and unnatural."

Remus allowed himself a smile.

"To make matters worse," said Severus, "I'm to teach Harry occlumency next term."

"I suppose that makes sense," said Remus. "I wouldn't worry, though. He is a capable student, plenty of willpower. I taught him to conjure a patronus the year I was there. He ought to take to occlumency."

"He has never been especially capable or attentive at potions," said Severus.

"Really? And his mother was so good at potions," Remus said mildly.

Severus winced. Remus met his eye as if he understood, but said nothing.

"I suppose you're worried about the risks of sharing minds with a boy who is sharing minds with Lord Voldemort?"

"Among other things," said Severus.

"You must have gotten over your block with occlumency by now, as you haven't been caught," said Remus.

"Yes," Severus agreed. "I've taken up -- don't laugh."

Remus crossed his finger over his heart. "Scout's honor," he said.

Something about the gesture and the phrase reminded Severus that Remus had a muggle parent as well. "I've taken up writing poetry," he said.

"Very sensible," said Remus, with a small smile. "You're fairly well spoken; I imagine you'd be a competent writer."

Severus thought about showing Remus one of his poems, but that really would be too much. No need to overdo things.

"How goes the world of the werewolves?" asked Severus.

Remus sighed. "Not much progress. They're sort of in hibernation for the winter."

"And Arthur?" Severus asked, because he actually rather liked the man.

"Arthur's doing fine," said Remus. "Came home from the hospital about a week ago. Everyone's very relieved. We're just worried that Lord Voldemort suspects."

"He does," said Severus. "He's a suspicious man in any case, and it's all I can do to keep him on the wrong track. Another reason why I must not fail in my lessons with the boy, regardless of our lack of rapport."

"Bit of pressure on you lately, isn't there, mate?" said Remus.

Severus broke out laughing. It was as if a pipe inside him had burst, and he couldn't stop. Presently, Remus joined in.

"Suppose we survive this war," said Remus, "they had better give us all a few medals."

"Medals?" laughed Severus. "I'll take a street named after me in Hogsmeade."

"Snape Street?" suggested Remus. "Nice ring to it."

"Lupin Lane," said Severus.

"Dumbledore Drive," said Remus.

"Weasley Way," said Severus. "Surely they've earned an alley among the lot of them."

"Molly's earned one by herself, just for feeding us," said Remus.

"That woman is no joke in a duel, you know," said Severus. "I've seen her knock out four Death Eaters with a single curse when she was six months pregnant."

Remus nodded. "I believe it. I've seen what she's like when one of her family is in danger."

"So, every year of her life, then," said Severus.

Remus laughed. "If it isn't basilisks or dragons, it's quidditch. No rest for the Weasleys."

They set up the chess board on the coffee table for a quick game. Severus couldn't believe how restored he felt after the horrible term he'd had, just sitting here having a laugh with Remus. Perhaps he ought to try leaving his home now and then, exploring the muggle world.

"How's Sirius?" asked Severus.

"All right," said Remus. "Harry and the Weasleys have been staying with him for the holidays, to be near the hospital, so he's been in a good mood. He hasn't had a proper Christmas in years, of course."

Severus resolved to be civil to Sirius the next time they met. It didn't do any good to lose his temper. They were, after all, fighting the same war.


	6. Destiny

It was the first week of summer term, and Severus was giving career advice to Draco Malfoy, supervised by the ever present Umbridge.

"I don't think I need any career advice," Draco said coolly. "I plan to take over the family business one day. Looking after the estate, you know, like my father, seeing to the investments and such. It's a full time job."

"I'm sure you will be a credit to the Malfoy name," said Umbridge. "But have you ever considered a position on the Wizengamot as well? It wouldn't take up too much of your time, and you could do so much good to your community."

Draco broke into a smug smile. "That would certainly be a feather in my cap."

Severus frowned. Wasn't he supposed to be giving the advice here?

"Draco," he said, "you needn't take over the running of Malfoy Manor as your sole career if you don't want to. Your father is still a young man, and when he is gone, you could simply hire a steward to care for the place, if you have any other interests you'd like to pursue."

A shadow passed over Draco's face. "Father and I have already spoken about it," he said, as if this settled the matter. "Besides, what else would I do?"

"Your marks in both Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts have been consistently high," said Severus. "You could try for a position as a Healer, a Potioneer, or a curse breaker for Gringotts."

"Severus," said Umbridge, "I'm sure you mean well, but you don't seem to be aware of Mr. Malfoy's esteemed background. As the young man is already aware, he is destined for the life of a philanthropist, not a tradesman."

Severus knew a thing or two about Slytherins and destiny, the word they used to mean peer pressure in its nastiest forms. He also knew that Draco was likely to be volunteered for an organization much more dangerous than the Wizengamot in the near future. But he had no way to speak privately to Draco about that, not with Umbridge there.

"In that case, Draco, you ought to take NEWT level History of Magic," said Severus. "If you are to become a man of high society, it is important that you understand the history, politics, and culture of that society."

"A lovely idea," said Umbridge. "Particularly as I hope to have that unnatural spirit removed as an instructor by next year, so you may have a more satisfactory professor for your NEWT years. I would also be happy to have you in Defense Against the Dark Arts next year."

Severus thought grimly that Umbridge wouldn't be there to teach him next year, but kept this thought to himself. As for Binns, Severus felt much the same as he had about Trelawney; as useless as Binns was, he still resented an outsider coming in and trying to change things.

As Umbridge left the room, Severus followed Draco to the door and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Draco," he said quietly, "You ought to be the only person deciding your destiny. Keep that in mind as you make any important decisions over the summer."

Draco looked up at him, surprised. Severus knew it had been a dangerous thing to say, but he had to at least try. Young as he was, Draco was facing a decision that could literally mark him for life.

His remark seemed to have troubled Draco. Severus wished he could say more, to indicate that he understood the trouble and had faced it himself when he was only a bit older than Draco, an age when everything had seemed like a brilliant game. But a moment later, the boy's demeanor had returned to calm. "Thank you for your concern," he said stiffly.

At nine o'clock that evening, he heard a knock at the door to his quarters and went to answer it.

"Remus?" he asked, quickly urging the man inside. "How did you get in here? I wasn't aware you were on the new headmaster's approved list of visitors."

"I know all the secret passages in and out of Hogwarts," he reminded Severus. "There's a convenient one from Honeyduke's right into the school. From there I simply Disillusioned myself and avoided notice. Everyone seems rather distracted just now by all the fireworks and swamps."

"Yes, it's been an interesting few weeks," Severus agreed. "But it was dangerous for you to come here. You know Umbridge doesn't like werewolves."

"Yes, well, I needed to have a word with you about Harry's Occlumency lessons," said Remus. "It seems they've stopped, and for a rather petty reason."

Severus blushed. Mortifying as his altercation with Potter had been, he had at least felt sure he'd scared the boy into staying quiet. Weren't Gryffindors supposed to be honorable and decent? Of course, if he had been at all decent, he wouldn't have looked at the memory in the first place.

"That is not your concern," he told Remus.

Remus sat down on his bed. "Cut the nonsense, Severus. It became my concern when Harry's safety was compromised."

Severus simply folded his arms.

"I understand that you were embarrassed," said Remus.

"The boy violated my trust," said Severus. "How can I teach a subject as ... intimate as Occlumency to someone who would go rifling through my personal business at the first opportunity? He was making no real progress, in any case. The boy wouldn't even try properly."

"And were you trying properly?" asked Remus. "Were you teaching him meditation, or moats and bridges?"

"Potter has no need for moats and bridges," said Severus. "He has several close friends to talk to. If he still can't occlude, it seemed that clearing his mind was the best course of action. Yet, he doesn't seem at all concerned about learning the art."

"It is very important that he learn. We don't know what thoughts Lord Voldemort might put into his mind," said Remus. "For what it's worth, he felt terrible about what he saw in your Pensieve. As did Sirius and I."

"He told Black as well?" hissed Severus.

"He was upset," said Remus. "He grew up being told by many people that his father was a good man and a martyr. Now he knows James had an unpleasant side."

"As well he should!" said Severus.

"I agree that James could be unpleasant," said Remus. "And Harry's old enough to realize that by now. But Severus, you know what you need to do. Talk to Harry. He's on your side now. Use this as a point of connection. It's the only way you can teach him Occlumency."

"I still don't understand why we can't just tell him not to go to the Department of Mysteries, and why. He ought to know about a prophecy that concerns his own future destiny," said Severus.

Remus nodded. "That's what Sirius said. He still needs to know how to Occlude though. If he knew about the prophecy, Lord Voldemort would just find some other way to lure him out of the school."

"Remus, I am not going to have a heart to heart with the Boy Who Lived about our shared experiences as the target of bullies," said Severus. "You cannot possibly expect that of me. Any trust between us has been irreparably broken. Someone else can teach him, someone with whom he has a less contentious relationship. You could do it."

"It has to be someone at Hogwarts," said Remus. "He can't leave the place for lessons with Umbridge watching."

"Incidentally, how did he manage to talk to you and Sirius about what he had seen?" asked Severus.

"He broke into the fire in Umbridge's office," said Remus.

"Arrogant bastard," said Severus, although he couldn't help smiling.

He didn't know what to do about Potter. Of course he, Severus, was being rather immature about the situation. But he couldn't see a way to keep sharing minds with the boy; they'd seen too much of each other's thoughts already, with little progress to show for it.

"Think about what I've said," said Remus. "I have to go now."

And he swiftly Disillusioned himself and left.


	7. The Forbidden Forest

As soon as Severus left Umbridge's office and arrived back at his own, he sent a Patronus message to Black with his doe.

"Harry believes you to be kidnapped. Are you?"

Severus tapped his desk as he waited for a response. If Sirius didn't respond in an hour, he would have to visit Grimmauld Place himself and check. And if Sirius was indeed missing ... but how could it be? The Dark Lord couldn't get in, and he had hoped Black wouldn't be fool enough to go out.

He forced himself to put aside his bitterness. Sirius was part of the Order of the Phoenix. Order members trusted each other. Harry was not in the Order; he was a boy. The Dark Lord had fooled him somehow. It was the sort of thing he would do.

Before he could think on it anymore, he received a Patronus reply. "All is well here. Tell Harry."

But he couldn't tell Harry, because Harry was in the Forbidden Forest with that hag.

It was infuriating. The Dark Lord was breaking into Potter's mind, and they couldn't finish sorting it all out because of a school disciplinary matter. Not for the first time, Severus wondered if Umbridge was working directly for the Dark Lord, even if he'd never seen her around at meetings. Briefly, he considered going after them, stunning Umbridge, and shouting at Potter that Black was fine and he was to stop being a fool at once. But it wouldn't be worth blowing his cover. Soon enough, Potter, Umbridge, and Granger would have to come back to the castle. They couldn't apparate out of the Forbidden Forest, as it was still within the grounds. And Umbridge surely wouldn't let them leave the grounds. They didn't even have their wands. Therefore, the boy would eventually return here, Severus would intercept him, and there was nothing much to worry about.

However, his intuition told him that Potter and Granger would find some way to give Umbridge the slip. After all, they'd found a way to rescue Black before when it had been impossible.

Severus made a quick decision. He thrust a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace in his office. "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" he announced.

At the dining room table sat Remus, Tonks, Shacklebolt, Moody, and Black.

"Severus, what's going on?" demanded Moody. "Professor Dumbledore's on his way. Have you spoken to Potter? Is You Know Who possessing him again?"

"No. Potter is currently missing," said Severus.

Black stood up.

"Calm down, he isn't in the Dark Lord's clutches. He's somewhere in the Forbidden Forest with Granger and Umbridge. I'll make sure to tell him when he returns that you are safe."

"What is he doing there?" asked Black.

"He broke into Umbridge's office, intending to check if you were safe," Severus explained. "Umbridge caught him. I'm not entirely sure why they went to the Forbidden Forest, but I assume she's punishing them in some way."

"Why would he do that, when I gave him a two way mirror to contact me?" Sirius asked.

"That's a good question," said Remus. "Why didn't he use the mirror the last time he talked to us, either? Did someone confiscate it?"

They both looked anxiously at Severus, their distrust settling on him like a weight.

"It's no good looking at me like that," said Severus. "I don't know anything about any mirror. I'm trying to help you all. I shall return to the castle and search the forest for the boy."

"I'm going to the Ministry, in case he does end up there," said Shacklebolt.

"And I," said Tonks, Moody, and Remus.

"I'm going, too," said Black. "If there are Death Eaters trying to steal that prophecy, I'm going to fight them."

"Someone must stay behind to tell Professor Dumbledore what has happened," said Severus.

Black glared at him. "I'm through staying behind."

"As you wish," said Severus, heading back to the fireplace.

"Severus, wait," said Remus. "Take my broomstick. You'll be able to find them in the forest easier."

Severus took the broomstick. Unfortunately, he hadn't flown in years, so he had some difficulty maneuvering around the darkening paths of the forest. He caught up to Potter just in time to see him flying south on a thestral with a pack of friends, faster than Severus could possibly go.

Cursing, Severus flew back to the castle and returned to Grimmauld Place.

Professor Dumbledore looked up from the dining room table, where he was talking to a house elf.

"It's worse than we feared," said Dumbledore by way of greeting.

Severus had a shameful urge to hug Dumbledore, something he'd never had the nerve to do before. In the end he just sat down beside his old boss at the table.

"I must go to the ministry," said Dumbledore. "And you must stay here."

He nodded down at the mark on Severus' arm, which had already begun to burn.

In a makeshift potions laboratory in the cellar of Grimmauld Place, Severus stood tending a cauldron of healing solution. The room was already stocked with a good supply of antidotes to help with burns, cuts, and minor curses. But Severus himself had created a very effective battle-specific potion that needed to be made fresh. He had designed it personally, and it was intelligent enough to diagnose the most common spell-induced injuries and target specific ones.

If Severus couldn't be at the Ministry of Magic in person for this battle, brewing was the next best thing.

He couldn't believe how poorly the night had gone so far. First, Potter seeing that vision and believing it without question, even after all the effort they'd put into making him understand why he shouldn't be paying those visions any mind. And more importantly, why had the boy tried to break into Umbridge's office to check on Black, instead of asking Severus to check? The continued lack of trust, after all he'd done for the cause, really rankled.

Now the Order was being forced into open battle much sooner than they'd anticipated. They would surely be outnumbered. And he, Severus, couldn't be there. Even in disguise, it would've been too risky. He almost fancied he knew how Black had been feeling the past year, stuck inside this awful house while everyone else was out fighting the good fight.

Several people suddenly burst into the house.

"Molly?" shouted Shacklebolt. "Hestia?"

Severus bounded up the stairs with a vial of his most recent batch of potion. It was Moody and Shacklebolt.

"Any injured?" he asked.

Tonks entered the room with Remus. Severus looked at Remus' face, and at the empty place beside him, and he knew at once what had happened.


	8. Shiva

An hour later, Severus approached Remus' bedroom at Grimmauld Place and knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Remus.

He was sitting on the bed, leafing through an old photo album. Severus had no idea what to say, so he simply sat down beside Remus.

"I suppose he would've wanted to die in battle," said Remus morosely.

The language of touch was foreign to Severus, but tonight it felt necessary and proper. Tentatively, he laid a hand on Remus' shoulder.

"Who killed him?" asked Severus.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," said Remus. "She was remorseless."

Severus could imagine it. Killing Sirius would've just about made Bella's week.

"Harry was inconsolable, of course," said Remus. "I had to hold him back."

Of course Remus had been strong for Harry. Of course he had put someone else first.

Severus wondered if Harry realized the whole thing was his fault. No, not the whole thing. Severus also played a role. If he hadn't made Sirius feel guilty for missing all the action over the past year, this might never have happened. Ironic that Severus was the one who had stayed behind. If only he hadn't told the Dark Lord about the prophecy in the first place. Also, if Dumbledore had simply told Harry about the prophecy, the entire battle might not have happened. He told himself sternly to stop thinking about what might have caused this not to happen, because it obviously had happened.

And now, in the present, Remus sat beside him, lips trembling, waiting to be given a signal that he had permission to cry.

"Remus, I'm sorry," Severus said, gathering his friend into his arms.

Not seeming to realize that Severus was a repugnant monster who didn't know how to be a person, Remus accepted his hug and began weeping quietly into the front of his robes. Severus remembered doing this with his mother as a small boy. He couldn't pretend to be sad that Sirius was gone, but he was sad that Remus was sad.

"Sirius was my first real friend," said Remus. "And I had to lose him twice."

"I know," said Severus. He wished he could think of something a bit more insightful or sensitive to say. "I envied you your friendships for a long time."

Remus drew a pocket handkerchief from his pocket, blew his nose, and wiped his eyes.

"I am lucky, aren't I, to have had them at all," he said.

"Yes," said Severus. "When Lily died ... of course I hadn't been in contact with her for a few years, but still, the knowledge that we could never mend our fences, that I would never see her or hear about her again, even by accident, was, well, daunting. But the years I did have with her are mine to keep, and have shaped the man I became."

"You loved her, didn't you?" Remus asked.

Severus looked down. "I suppose it never was a secret."

"I loved Sirius," said Remus, looking down, too. "I don't know if he ever loved me in the same way. But he was good enough to give me what he did. And you're right. Those memories will stay with me."

"Do you suppose there will be a funeral?" Severus asked.

"We'll have to think of something," said Remus. "No family members, of course, other than Andromeda and Tonks. But I'm sure the Order would like to say goodbye. And Harry. Sirius drew up a will last summer; Harry now owns the house we're sitting in."

Severus considered making a cup of tea. He could, of course, conjure the mugs and the water and the tea leaves from the kitchen and heat them up by magic. However, he felt like doing it the muggle way.

"I'm going to put the kettle on," he said. "I think the others are still here."

Together, they returned to the kitchen. Kingsley, Tonks, and Moody were still there, along with Molly and Arthur Weasley. The table that usually held so much energy was sitting shiva.

"How are Ron and Ginny?" Remus asked.

"They're going to be okay," said Arthur. "They're in the hospital wing. Ron might have some scarring from those brains, but I think they were lucky."

"Dumbledore will be along later," said Kingsley. "He had to talk to Harry about some things."

By 'some things', he obviously meant the prophecy. Well, this might change matters.

Remus sat down next to Tonks. Silently, Severus padded to the stove and put the kettle on. He checked the cabinets for supplies and found, to his surprise, quite a collection of tea leaves, along with an antique tea set. Chamomile seemed appropriate. When the water boiled, he filled up the large teapot, gathered up milk, sugar, and honey, and put together a tea tray, which he brought into the dining room.

"Thank you, Severus," said Molly, taking a cup.

"I suppose you are known for your brewing," said Tonks, who had been his student only a few years ago. "It's just that it's usually brewing of a different sort."

"Same basic set of skills," said Severus, sitting beside Kingsley. "It's all in the temperature control."

More members of the Order turned up as the night wore on, looking for news. Ted and Andromeda. Bill and Fleur. Mundungus. Most of the Diggles. Soon there was no room at the table, so they spilled into the drawing room, a living manifestation of grief and impending mortality. A throng of separate bodies that was, for this single evening, one.

Past midnight, Dumbledore finally showed up.

"Fudge has been reasonably accommodating," he announced. "In the coming weeks, I believe the ministry will be much more willing to work with us rather than against us."

"Fudge will be sacked before the month is out, no question," said Moody. "I'm interested to see who takes his place."

"I hope it's someone tough, so we can finally get to work," said Kingsley. "It will be a relief to be able to drop the act of looking for Sirius."

A beat of silence fell around the room.

"Brave bastard, he was, I'll say that," said Moody.

"Remember in the first war, when James and Sirius evacuated that muggle church the Death Eaters burnt down?" asked Arthur.

"I'll never forget it as long as I live," said Remus. "They were pulling muggles onto their broomsticks like they were a taxi service. Saved a dozen of them at least."

"Sirius was at the Battle of Hampstead, too, wasn't he?" Molly remembered.

"I'm sure he was," said Dumbledore. "He was the one who knocked over the statue of Walpurgis."

"Sounds like him," Remus sniffled.

"A hero to the end," said Moody. He raised his teacup. "To Sirius."

"To Sirius," echoed the room, and they all took a drink together.


	9. Vows

One night in July, the Dark Lord took Draco Malfoy for his own.

"Hold out your arm," his new master ordered.

Draco held it out, trying to look calm and proud. But his face was the same one he wore when he hadn't studied for an exam that, like it or not, had come all the same.

"Do you vow eternal loyalty to the Dark Lord and the cause of liberation for all wizard kind?"

Draco vowed.

Severus forced himself to watch the black mark etching itself into Draco's skin. It was too late to stop it. He tried to tell himself that everything would be all right when the Dark Lord was defeated, that a day would come when all the marks in this room would fade and disappear. He, Severus, would make sure that day came, for Draco and for every young life ruined by this ghastly war.

The next evening, he discovered that he would have to kill Albus Dumbledore.

A week later, he made a vow of his own, and learned that he would only have to kill Dumbledore if Draco didn't do it first.

The war was spinning out of control. Danger was everywhere, creeping over the lives of everyone important to Severus like a thicket of ivy. It would be a miracle if they all made it out of this alive.

Also, Peter Pettigrew was sleeping in his attic.

"Well, now, someone's frightened," said Peter, emerging smugly from his spot behind the keyhole as the Black sisters departed. "What does the Dark Lord have you doing, then?"

Severus dearly wanted to curl up on the sofa and shout loudly into a pillow. Even in his own home, he had to keep up his act.

Peter sat down in an armchair. It was the same one Remus had sat in when he had visited last winter. Odd that Remus and Peter had been friends once, when they had grown into such different men.

"Only natural to be a bit worried," said Peter. "Rather a daunting man, the Dark Lord. I've spent a lot of time attending to him, not that he shows much gratitude."

"You regret the Dark Lord's resurrection?" Severus sneered.

"No, no," Peter said hurriedly. "It will all be worth it after the revolution. But you can't pretend it's not getting to you, the stress of serving."

"The life of a patriot is not easy," Severus agreed, wishing so hard to see an actual human being sitting with him that he almost could. "Why, do you find yourself under much strain, chopping herbs for my potions?"

Peter helped himself to a glass of elf made wine. "You see, that's where most people go wrong, Snape, desperately seeking a place in the inner circle. That's how you end up in over your head, expected to volunteer for the most dangerous jobs. Me, I wasn't inner circle even for the year when I was His entire circle! Nobody expects me to plot any brilliant plots or risk my neck. But if we win, I was on the right side, so I'll do all right."

And he nodded knowingly at Snape.

"You're in a good spot yourself, aren't you," Peter continued. "If the Dark Lord wins, you can take credit. If the Order of the Phoenix wins, you'll find a way to take credit for that, too. As long as you survive until the end of the war, you'll slither out okay."

Severus was disturbed at Peter's unexpected perception. Of course, Peter didn't know what Severus was going to have to do to Dumbledore. It would actually be easier for Severus to escape unscathed if the Dark Lord won. If the Order won, Severus would be lucky to keep himself out of Azkaban.

After the war. It hit Severus like a ton of bricks that Dumbledore wouldn't live to see it.

"We're none of us pure," said Peter, picking up on his mood if not the reason behind it.

Severus wasn't sure if Peter was just trying to gather some inside information, or if he just genuinely felt isolated and fancied a chat. The man didn't have much of a proper life to live for. At least Severus got to live at Hogwarts most of the year.

On both sides of every conflict, there were a few nutters like Bellatrix Lestrange and Sirius Black, desperate to throw themselves into the action. And behind them, a whole lot of pragmatists just trying to make it out alive.

"Imagine," said Severus, taking a bit of a risk, "where we might be right now, if we hadn't gotten involved in multiple deadly wars, the first when we were still teenagers."

"Feeling sorry for young Draco?" Peter asked.

Severus frowned. "Sorry that he was not born into a more resolved society, perhaps," he said. "But life will ready him. Life will make him strong enough to shoulder it."

Peter raised his glass and downed it. "L'chaim," he hiccuped.


	10. Back to School

"You seem troubled," said Remus as they sat in his bedroom a week later.

Severus nodded, tapping his feet fitfully on the carpet. Troubled was an understatement. Even sleeping had become a chore these days. "Secret Order business. I can't say."

"But it's big," said Remus.

"Yes," said Severus. "It is life changing. An enormous, miserable, secret task that I must do."

"And there's no getting out of it, I suppose," said Remus.

"No. A bad thing will happen, even if I do nothing. I have been ordered to get involved in order to ... manage the thing, to get some advantage out of it and minimize the damage. Refusing would not fix anything," said Severus.

Remus nodded, touching Severus on the arm. Touching each other had become more common lately. It was filling a craving in Severus of which he had not been previously aware.

"Have you written about it in your journal?" Remus asked.

Severus shook his head. "Can't risk it. This isn't public knowledge, either, but your old friend Peter is staying at my house indefinitely. Nothing is safe there."

Remus looked sad. "I remember sharing a dormitory with him."

"Many years of your kindness, wasted," said Severus.

Remus pursed his lips. "I don't think kindness is ever wasted," he said. "I've wondered at times what might have happened if we'd shown Peter a bit more of it. We didn't always treat him with the most care, you know. James expected Sirius-level loyalty out of Peter without showing Sirius-level friendship in return."

"Hogwash," said Severus. "It wouldn't have mattered, and Peter didn't deserve it."

"He didn't deserve a lot of the things James and Sirius did to him, either," Remus reflected.

"Your capacity for forgiveness continues to astound me," said Severus.

"I have been forgiven myself, so it makes sense." said Remus. 

Severus didn't think Remus had done much that needed forgiveness, but he knew not to argue the point.

"I suppose I won't see you for a month or two, as I'll be off with the werewolves," said Remus. "You must try to care for yourself, Severus. I worry about you."

Severus sensed that he really meant it. It wasn't politeness or generic human goodness, not anymore. A current of warmth ran from Remus' eyes to his own that left Severus blushing.

He had never dated a man, but then he'd never dated a woman, either. How did people arrange such things? How could they just know, without saying a word, that their attraction was reciprocated? The risk of making a move seemed insurmountably daunting to him. It wasn't likely that a man with Remus' confidence issues would try it, either.

But at minimum, he had to accept his newly blossoming romantic feelings. If he didn't, they would be cluttering his unconscious when he tried to occlude from the Dark Lord, which could put Remus and others in danger. So, he wrote the feelings into a poem and stored it in his personal wizard space, where none could find it.

Both of us scarred  
Lost in the dark  
Both of us marred  
By an unwanted mark  
Troubled thoughts cease in me  
Beacon of decency  
When you sit by me my soul feels a spark  
Warm amber eyes  
Hands understood  
Face never lies  
Heart never could  
All men must fight to heal  
If I've a right to feel  
In this hard universe, you are my good

Pitiful, he though. An English master he'd never make. But Severus had a theory about ages, and how people could be several ages at once. Physically, he was thirty-five. In war experience, he was at least sixty. In romance, though, he was still about fifteen. Well, it couldn't be helped. Most likely nothing would come of it.

He set off for Hogwarts at the appointed time. It felt strange to be sitting at the table in the Great Hall with Dumbledore as if nothing had changed. One good thing about this year was that he would be teaching Defence at last, after years of watching total idiots bungle the job. Well, not all of them, he amended, thinking of Remus. Perhaps he could write Remus and compare notes on what sort of lessons he'd taught to which years. It was essential that Severus bring the fifth and seventh years up to speed for their OWLs and NEWTs; they were bound to be years behind. He hoped that the recent news of the Dark Lord's return would spur them to work a little harder at Defence than they usually did at Potions.

That was another mixed bag: Slughorn would be taking the post of Potions Master. Severus had noticed on the book list that he'd assigned the same textbook that Severus himself had used twenty years ago. It seemed unlikely that his old professor had been keeping up with the latest developments in the field in his retirement. Relieved as Severus was that he wouldn't have to stop anyone from melting a cauldron this year, he hoped that his older students would pass their NEWTs all right with Slughorn at the helm. Severus had been very selective with his NEWT classes and had almost enjoyed mentoring a few of them.

Suddenly, a patronus galloped across the staff high table, an unfamiliar patronus in the shape of a wolf. Severus leapt up, frantically thinking of Remus in danger. But when the patronus spoke, the voice was that of Nymphadora Tonks.

"I have Harry Potter with me. Please come down to the gate to fetch him."

Severus strode out of the entrance hall. Why was Nymphadora's patronus a wolf now? He well remembered his own patronus turning into a doe, and the reason why. This wasn't good at all. But did Remus feel the same way? If he did, Severus couldn't even find it in himself to want to break them up. Aside from the age difference, the woman would make a very worthy partner for Remus. Ah, well, it wasn't as if Severus had stood any chance even without a rival.

Furious, he met her at the front gate. Why hadn't Potter arrived with the others? One more wrench in his plans.

Later that night, he heard Draco Malfoy boasting in the common room about giving Potter a bloody nose and a good scare. The boy had the audacity to throw Severus a wink about it. Idiot boy. He really would have to find some way to make Draco take things more seriously. Now was not the time to be acting immature.


	11. Waiting

Since Draco was avoiding him, Severus had decided to write him a letter. He kept throwing away half-finished drafts.

"I understand your reluctance to trust authority figures, because when I was your age ..." No.

"I know the fear of disappointing the Dark Lord ..." Not likely.

"Your father's aggressive decisions landing him in prison must be difficult for you, in fact I myself had a father who ..." Definitely not.

"Please come to my office at eight o'clock this evening." Safe but overly formal.

How could he gain Draco's trust without revealing anything about himself?

Luckily, it wasn't actually necessary for him to connect with Draco. The terms of his Vow were vague. He had to watch over and assist him as best he could, but if Draco refused his help, then there wasn't much he could do. And Dumbledore didn't actually want the boy to succeed. Severus wasn't sure if it would be worse to kill Dumbledore himself, or to watch Draco do it. Severus killing Dumbledore would be emotionally horrific, but good for his cover, but bad for his credibility with the Order. Draco killing Dumbledore would be more bearable for him, but morally worse because of the corruption of an innocent. Both would end the vow, and also leave him without his general and mentor of over a decade. Even months later, he still could not bring himself to imagine the Order pressing on without Dumbledore.

What a lovely year this was shaping up to be.

At least he got to teach Defence, thereby doing something positive for the war effort. Severus planned out his classes as if he expected every student to end up a soldier for the Order; the coming war could easily drag on for years, like the last one had. And with Harry and Dumbledore both here, a battle on the school grounds was entirely possible. Though he berated them as much as he had in Potions, it made him proud to watch them improve.

Order meetings weren't as much fun without Remus, but he got along all right with Alastor and Kingsley as well. Kingsley was now serving as security detail to the muggle prime minister, which was fun to tease him about.

"And how is the view from the PM's rear end?" Severus asked him before one meeting.

Kingsley grinned. "They're pretty organized over there, for muggles," he said. "They may not have our advantages, but they know what's going on in their sphere. One of these days, they're going to catch on to us, and we're not going to be able to magic ourselves out of it."

"That's a sobering thought, given their numbers and weaponry," said Severus.

"They're not animals. They have the same level of intelligence and responsibility as us," said Kingsley, leaning in conspiratorially. "Honestly ... I think they could help us. The PM wants the attacks to end, and he's been offering me access to their military. Severus, they could destroy us if they wanted. They literally have enough weapons to destroy the entire world. Dumbledore keeps scoffing at me; for all his cleverness he's a pureblood, and an old man, and I don't think he really understands what the muggles can do these days. And nor does You-Know-Who. He has raw magical power on his side, but if you could get some of these military muggles into one of their meetings, take them by surprise ..."

"I understand," said Severus, remembering some of the things he learned in muggle primary school in the 1960s about Japan and the USSR. "But I don't think it's that simple. The Dark Lord has something keeping him alive besides his dueling skill; I can feel it. He would never take the risks he takes if he didn't have some sort of ace in the hole. And I think Dumbledore knows what it is."

Kingsley nodded. "Yeah, he must have something. He's making an absolute fool of the Ministry, causing so much fear with a couple dozen followers. I do think Dumbledore might have deigned to inform the inner circle, the professionals ..."

Severus sighed. "That's Dumbledore for you," he said. "Unfathomable. Then again, I'm not sure I would trust Scrimgoeur if I were him. Arresting bus drivers now, isn't he?"

"Yes, I've heard some nasty things," Kingsley agreed. "I don't know, first Fudge and now him? Why can't I have a sensible boss for once?"

"Perhaps next time you could run yourself," Severus suggests.

Nothing much changed in the war for the next few weeks. The Dark Lord would attack someone, the Ministry would fumble to catch them and make an arrest, and invariably it was the wrong person, like a high stakes game of Mafia. It was infuriating for Severus to know exactly who was causing the trouble without being able to do anything.

And then Katie Bell received a cursed necklace.

It had to be Draco. No adult Death Eater would be so clumsy. Severus sent the boy a nasty note about the incident; he'd been lucky it wasn't worse.

He wasn't sure what to say to Draco's mother when they met at Death Eater Meetings. Severus had always dreaded these occasions, but lately they had become even more tense. Occluding through the whole hour, acting calm and pleased at the group's recent successes, was a constant challenge. Severus felt a stab of fear every time Greyback mentioned the werewolves and how he had them eating out of the palm of his hand. Macnair discreetly scooted away from him every time he spoke; even among the words of the worst, there were pariahs. Bellatrix was still not getting on with Narcissa, and as they sat on either side of the Dark Lord, staring each other down, Severus thought they might actually bore holes in each other with their eyes. So much for sisterly love.

Kingsley's words about Dumbledore stuck with him. Dumbledore kept summoning Harry Potter to his office for private meetings. What information could he be giving to a reckless teenager that he couldn't give to his adult soldiers? Was it something about the prophecy, perhaps? But what more was there to be said about it?

In an effort to keep himself from going mad, Severus had been sketching pictures in his journal. He drew Hogsmeade on Halloween as it had been before the war, and might be again one day, crowds of people out making merry. Not that he wanted to be in the crowds, exactly. He just wanted them to exist. He playfully renamed the streets in his drawings after his comrades. It was getting harder and harder to imagine a life after this one.


	12. Writing

Occlumency was becoming difficult again. With all his fears about the future swirling around, he'd had a couple close calls with the Dark Lord to talk his way out of. He'd meditated, and he'd sketched, and he'd written in his now magically encrypted journal, and he'd apparated to a forest miles away and gone for a ride on one of the school brooms, as if that would help. In desperation, he'd even challenged Kingsley to a game of chess after a meeting, but it hadn't helped.

"War's not looking great for us, is it?" Severus had muttered, moving his bishop toward the center.

"No," Kingsley had said in a resigned way.

"Got a rather nasty task in front of me," Severus had ventured. "Top secret, for Dumbledore."

Kingsley had just nodded. "I'm sure you're equal to it, Snape. You're a tough one."

The only person he could talk to about everything was Dumbledore, and Dumbledore was being even more dismissive and cold to Severus than usual. Of course it couldn't be easy to come to terms with his impending death.

"What do you suppose we'll do without you?" Severus has asked the last time they met on the roof.

"It's all fixed up," Dumbledore had said. "Kingsley and Alastor know their roles. Minerva will balance you out here. Harry will know his part before I am gone."

Severus had held his elbow. "Has it occurred to you that you will be missed for more than your martial ability?"

But Dumbledore had only shaken his head dismissively. "I have no children, no spouse. I long ago gave up the idea of a personal life. Those who see me as a father are deluded, and will just have to get over it."

That had stung.

"When do you suppose Lupin will be back?" he'd asked near the end of their conversation, as casually as he could.

Dumbledore had simply replied, "Missing him?" in a tone that suggested too much knowledge.

Severus had heard the rumors about Dumbledore and Grindelwald, the speculation about why he had never married. He'd never confirmed or denied it, steering the conversation always away from whatever life he might have outside of school. That much the two men had in common.

When Dumbledore had taught him Occlumency years ago, they'd unavoidably entered one another's minds a few times, sharing disjointed memories. At the time, Severus had been consumed with Lily, so his occasional sexual interest in men probably hadn't registered. Severus had only breached Dumbledore's mind once, and he could have sworn he saw the man in bed with a male partner for a split second. But naturally Severus hadn't said anything about it, precarious as his position with Dumbledore had been. When his chocolate frog card had come out, Severus had asked him about the chamber music and ten pin bowling, and Dumbledore had mentioned a bowling league, but that was as close as they'd come to the subject of his free time.

He could tell Dumbledore. Even if Dumbledore himself wasn't that way, he'd probably understand if Severus was. He'd been sympathetic about Lily; he seemed to take pleasure in the abstract concept of love in any form. And anyway, he sounded like he already knew. Passive legilimency or intuition, it was hard to tell sometimes with him.

"Yes, I miss him," Severus admitted finally, allowing some of the heartache he felt to creep into his words.

"You might write him a letter," Dumbledore suggested, acknowledging Severus' rawness with a pat on the shoulder. "Isn't that the done thing when your soldier is away on the front lines?"

Severus was weighing the pros and cons of writing a letter to Remus.

It was a risk, but a small one. Severus doubted the Dark Lord was reading his owls. If he was, he supposed he could claim he was cultivating a friendship with Remus to increase the group's trust of him. That sounded plausible. He simply needed to word the letter carefully to exclude any specific details about the war, or about romantic desires, while including the general essence of his feelings.

"I am not a man who likes to indulge in idle worries about the future," he wrote. "But I must admit I cannot help myself these days. It seems like it will take a miracle for everything to come out all right. Before the return of You Know Who, I made no plan for the future. I knew any personal attachments I formed would not be prudent. The world sees me as a man who cares not for anything or anyone, and I have encouraged that image. But it is a false one. Remus, I care for every student in this school, for every member of the Order, even for some of the younger death eaters who fell into this without thinking about it. Before a year passes, some of them will be lost. I don't know which ones, but it will happen, is already happening, in fact. I cannot push that knowledge out of my mind indefinitely. I shall carry on with my duty, because I must. But it's bloody awful, Remus. I suppose I just wanted to whinge a bit, sorry. I hope you're well. --Severus Snape."

Just for fun, Severus wrapped up his drawing of Hogsmeade with the funny street names and included it in the letter. As the owl winged away with his message, Severus felt a little relief.


	13. Boxing Day

Severus felt a bit stupid for his letter to Remus until the first day of Christmas break, when he got an owl back.

"Very amusing drawing, Severus. I know that you are frustrated, and there isn't much I can say to help that, not through a letter. I'm back for a long visit and a debriefing with the Order, and I'll be spending Christmas with the Weasleys. If it's not too forward of me to suggest, would you like me to drop by your house for Boxing Day?"

Of course Severus replied that it was all right. So after another uncomfortable Christmas Day with his mother and stepfather, he was waiting, again, for Remus. He was even more nervous this time. Would Remus be able to tell how much Severus had missed him?

Right on time, he came to the door, dotted with snowflakes, stamping his feet on the mat.

"Remus, welcome," Severus said cautiously.

"Skip the tea," Remus replied. "After the year I've had, I need a stiff drink."

Severus poured him a generous measure of elf made wine. "Werewolves that bad?"

"Yes. They're all with Greyback," said Remus shortly. "But I suppose you've heard about that."

"A bit," said Severus. "Even the other Death Eaters don't care for Greyback. How do you stand it?"

"With a great deal of mental repression," replied Remus, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "It's a good thing I don't have to occlude. So if you're amenable, I, too, would like to, er, 'whinge a bit'."

Severus blushed. "Be my guest. Though I'm sure you've talked it through with the others already."

"I've told Dumbledore the relevant bits," said Remus. "But he's a busy man, not interested in hearing the irrelevant bits."

Severus nodded in understanding. "He's been distant lately."

Remus looked up at him. "You know what's been going on with Dumbledore, don't you? It's something to do with your secret mission, isn't it?"

It was almost as if Remus and Severus were siblings with the same father. "I do, and I can't say, you know that."

"No, I don't suppose you can." Remus conceded. "But there is something going on there."

"Yes," Severus agreed. "He has a lot on his mind."

"As do you, I understand," Remus said. "I've just heard from Harry that you and Draco were fighting about his mission from You Know Who."

Severus sat up with a jolt. "Harry knows about that?" he cried, putting his hand to his forehead, trying to think. Harry had been at Slughorn's party, of course, and he must have noticed Draco's odd behavior and followed them. The boy was too clever for his own good, particularly since Dumbledore had been giving him some kind of information. Not that it mattered. Even if Harry managed to block Draco, it would just mean that Severus would have to do the deed himself.

"Harry has become almost obsessed with finding out what Draco's up to," Remus explained. "He was most willing to rattle on about all he's observed. Draco's been given some sort of mission from You Know Who, something he can work on at Hogwarts, something that involved smuggling a cursed necklace into school. I myself have observed some things as well. Dumbledore started acting differently around the time he sustained a serious Dark magic injury in his hand."

Severus hardly dared breathe.

"He's dying," Remus said, his voice low and solemn. "It's the only thing that makes sense. I know the Dark Arts, and with that cursed hand, I don't know how Dumbledore is still standing. I could feel the aura of it from six feet away. He knows he's dying; you can hear it in his voice. And your mission ... he wants you and Draco to kill him before the curse does. It would be the ultimate proof of loyalty."

Severus exhaled and nodded. So that was that, then. "You always were talented at sizing up the chess board."

"It's cruel of him," said Remus, sweet compassion in his eyes.

"It makes no difference. It's the right move," Severus argued. "What does it matter if it causes me anguish, if it saves our world from the Dark Lord?"

Remus turned toward him on the sofa, placing his hand over Severus'. "It being the right move doesn't mean your anguish doesn't matter."

The unfamiliar touch startled Severus, but once he got used to it, he wondered how he'd survived thus far in a life with no hand touches. A wave of emotion spread through him, as if someone had dropped a hot water bottle into his chest. Practically speaking, it didn't make much difference if Remus knew his secret. Severus would still have to do the deed. But it did matter, somehow. After it was done, Severus would still have one friend left to talk to, one person who knew he was good. And damnit, he needed that.

"He saved me," Severus admitted. "When no one else believed I had any good inside me, Dumbledore did. And now I must summon enough hatred to perform the Killing Curse ... You mustn't tell anyone. If one of our number is captured, and the information tortured out of them, the entire sacrifice would be in vain."

"I understand," Remus agreed. "Your secret is safe with me."

Severus looked up from their hands into Remus' eyes. He wished to convey something of his deep well of gratitude and affection, but in a platonic way.

"Remus," he began, voice faltering, "however you found out, it is ... a blessing ... to be able to come to you ..."

Remus pulled Severus into his arms. "I know," he whispered.

They sat like that for a few minutes, Severus wordlessly resting his face on Remus' chest. Remus stroked his hair. Marvelous relief spread through Severus at the gentle, intimate touch. Someone knew, and had not forsaken him. After a time, Remus leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Immediately, Remus' faced betrayed a flurry of fluster. "I'm sorry," Remus began. "The werewolves are a little more physical ... I forgot ... "

Severus didn't give a damn why Remus had done it; his obvious shyness betrayed him. Remus felt it, too, the feeling that had consumed Severus for months. Perhaps not as strongly, but enough.

If he had stopped to think for a minute, he would have realized that it was terribly dangerous to risk the only real friendship he had or could have, that in fact, it was dangerous for him to get too close to anybody, that he was not worthy, that he was a bit drunk, and that he had not cleaned his teeth that morning. But for once in his life, fortune favored Severus Snape, and he acted on instinct alone.

"Peace," said Severus, and before he could stop himself, he was seizing Remus' shoulders and kissing him squarely on the mouth.


	14. The Act

For about six seconds, they simply enjoyed the kiss. It was a very nice kiss, not that he had anything to compare it to. Remus joined in enthusiastically by grabbing Severus' head and pulling him in, so no problem there. But then he pulled back, a look of surprise on his face.

"Was that all right?" Severus asked, trembling, having little experience at reading romantic signals other than 'no'.

"Yes," Remus breathed, taking his hand. "I have wanted that for some time. I just ... didn't expect to get it."

"Nor I," Severus agreed, squeezing his hand, looking deep into his eyes for confirmation that they were on the same page. "In fact, that was ... my first kiss."

It was awkward to admit, but it was better than leading Remus to expect expert level sex and disappointing him.

"Well, it was my first kiss with another man," said Remus. "So, no fear. We can dip our toes into that river of sin together."

The word 'sin' sent shivers into Severus. "Then you want to ... er ... "

Remus smiled. Desire evident in his voice, he said, "I must return to the colony before New Year's. And after that, well, we may never meet again, you know. We can ease into things, but I have no time to dance around how much I want this, Severus. Do you as well?"

"I think so," said Severus. "I'm not entirely sure what fulfilling the want would entail, how to go about the ... act ... but I am certain the want is there."

Remus kissed him again, the feel of the pressure of his lips becoming familiar now. It took over his mind somehow, like an Imperius Curse: suddenly nothing mattered but being as close as possible. One thing was for sure, the first time hadn't been a mistake. Finally, they broke apart.

"I've never had the nerve to purchase homosexual pornography, but it can't be that complicated. The Greeks worked it out somehow," said Remus. "We'll just ... remove our clothing, and nature will take its course, I suppose."

Severus was beginning to feel frightened the more they talked about it. In the moment, he'd been filled with desire, but his brain was starting to catch up and make difficulties. Of course he had fantasized, but not expecting the dreams to come true, they had been hazy about the details. 

Severus scorned muggle and wizard society alike, preferring his books and his brewing in the evening to the pub or the television. Always a little aloof, he had never talked about his sexual proclivities with friends, and probably would not have even if he'd had any friends close enough to trust with such information. His knowledge of gay sex was limited to confusing, half remembered jokes from his muggle primary school days. In truth, Severus wanted more than anything to be held close and kissed.

"Perhaps tomorrow, one of us could go to a sex shop in London and find something to inform us," Severus suggested. "But for tonight, I think you have the right idea."

They got up and moved down the hallway toward the bedroom.

"If we were to engage in, you know, sodomy," Severus asked, "which one of us would, er ... which position would you take?"

"I'm not sure," Remus replied. "I've had sex with a woman before, so I know that end of it, but we could try it the other way around too, if you like."

"I believe we would need some ... supplies," Severus said uncertainly. "It sounds difficult, and I wouldn't know where to start. Let's not try it tonight."

"All right," Remus agreed. "For tonight, I think we'll have our hands full, if you'll pardon the pun."

They reached the dingy bedroom of Spinner's End, closed the door, and sat down on the bed. With a nervous shrug, Remus removed his shirt, and his upper half looked well muscled indeed. Doubts began to form in Severus' head as he realized he would have to do the same. One of the unexpected difficulties of going to bed with someone of the same sex was the inevitable comparisons between their bodies.

Remus seemed to sense his hesitation. In fact, Severus fancied sometimes that Remus knew all about him, things he never would have dared to say aloud, simply through superior powers of observation. Stranger still, Remus didn't mind what he saw. And that was a wonderful feeling.

"By the way," he said, giving Severus another kiss, "I think you're lovely. In case that wasn't obvious already."

"And the same to you," Severus replied, rather absurdly.

Remus drew his arm around Severus, and they began kissing in earnest. It was five o'clock in the evening on Boxing Day, the light still shining through the dirty window in dim bars, and there was no hurry at all. Soon, Remus was moving the hand that wasn't busy holding him all over Severus' upper body, feeling his chest over the button down shirt he still wore, and his shoulders, and his back, and especially his long hair, which Severus particularly enjoyed. Severus tried to copy his movements in a way that wasn't obvious, but soon became lost in the fascination of touching Remus in all the places that had been off limits before. He just couldn't get over the fact that all this was allowed now: the nipples, and the chest hair, and the stomach, and the hips, and the sides, and the broad shoulders, and the face, of course, he could run his finger right over Remus' stubble if he liked.

Finally, wanting more, Severus pulled away and unbuttoned his shirt, casting it off the side of the bed. He pulled Remus back in, and they ended up lying horizontally in a warm embrace, skin to skin, hand to back, face to crook of neck. Severus felt himself growing aroused, but hadn't worked out yet what they were going to do about that.

Remus looked down at the bulge in Severus' trousers. Instinctively, Severus moved to cover himself, before remembering that it was all right to be aroused in this sort of situation. Then, Remus unbuttoned his own trousers and pulled them off, along with his socks, revealing a pair of plain blue boxers with a large cock clearly straining to get out of them.

"It's working," Remus whispered excitedly. "You're hard."

"You too," replied Severus weakly. He was reluctant to let Remus see his pale, hairy legs, but it was obviously going to happen eventually, so he removed his own trousers.

Remus laid his hand on Severus' bare thigh and began stroking small circles into it. Severus' cock gave a jump of excitement at the touch. How extraordinary, he thought, his thoughts growing fuzzy. He wasn't sure he was ready for them to remove their underpants and get on with the next bit, but he also didn't want to ejaculate in his pants. He placed his hand on Remus' stomach, and Remus sighed happily.

"What do we do now?" Severus asked, a note of panic in his voice.

"Relax," Remus told him. "There's no wrong way to have sex if you're enjoying yourself. Pants off, I think?"

It was true that Severus' penis was uncomfortable trapped in his briefs. He took a deep breath, raised his hips, and pulled them down and off, pulse pounding with nervousness like the first time he'd ridden a broomstick. Remus did the same, with a bit more attempt at seduction, and Severus could not help staring, transfixed, at the hairy bollocks, the veiny shaft, the sticky head, slowly revealed one at a time. Then they were both totally naked in the bed, and Severus could see absolutely everything, their uncovered cocks side by side, and he felt obscene, as if surely this could not be allowed, that someone would be along in a second to tell him off for daring to look at this beautiful nude body, if Remus himself did not take one look at Severus and realize his mistake before running out of the room.

But before he could become overwhelmed, he was in Remus' arms again, every possible inch of their bare skin touching, top to toes and all that lay between them, and suddenly he was overwhelmed in a different way. It was so very good to be held like this, exposed totally, but safe, filled with trust. He kissed Remus and ran a hand through his scruffy hair, content with his blessings.

"My dear man," Remus whispered. "What shall I do with you? Would you like me to take your cock in my mouth?"

Severus ran through his pitiful store of dirty joke knowledge about non-procreative sex, picked up over thirty odd years in a working class muggle city. He'd heard of women doing such things, and he supposed all the anatomy would be the same for two men. But would he expect Severus to do the same?

"All right, but be careful," Severus agreed.

Remus scooted down the bed. He took hold of Severus' cock, itself a wonderful feeling, and doubtfully licked the head. Ah, so this was why men enjoyed such things. Severus exhaled noisily. Remus gave a longer lick right up the base, and that was even better. Finally, he took the top half of his cock right into his mouth, and gave it a testing suck.

"Ouch!" cried Severus. "Your teeth!"

"Sorry!" said Remus.

He tried again, with just his gums and his tongue, and this time it went all right. Severus missed being able to hold him, but he could live with that for a short while, and surely it would be only a short while. This felt very different from when he touched himself, much more intense, all his nerves on edge with stimulation. Remus bobbed up and down on his cock slowly, leaving Severus plenty wet and slick. His peak was building. He felt a bit guilty about letting Remus do all this work for him, but tried to relax, knowing he would take care of Remus too, somehow. After a few minutes, the pleasure was too much and he came.

Startled, Remus pulled off of his cock and spit out his semen.

"Oh," said Remus stupidly. And he crawled back up to lay his head next to Severus' on the pillows.

"Thank you," Severus said, equally stupidly.

He put an arm around Remus. There was just no way he could risk biting the other man's cock, not tonight. Instead, he lay a tender hand on it, tracing his palm down the shaft. Remus lay back and relaxed. Severus began pumping it in earnest, taking his partner's soft sighs as a good sign.

"More pressure, please," Remus requested, and Severus obliged, rubbing hard up and down, and the sighs turned to moans.

"Yes," Remus said, turning his head to kiss him. "Yes, darling."

Severus had a good view of Remus' face, transfigured with joy, eyes closed, mouth open, and it was a rewarding sight, watching him react to each press of Severus' fingers. Severus had never felt more connected to another person. Yet, it took a long time for Remus to come, much longer than Severus had taken. He worried that he wasn't doing very well. Without warning, he ducked down and gave the shaft of Remus' cock a lick. Remus responded with an enthusiastic groan, but still he did not come.

"Is it ..." Severus began.

"Yes," Remus moaned. "Please don't stop."

So Severus kept stroking, trying to focus on the enjoyment he was bringing his new lover rather than worrying. After an eternity, Remus ejaculated with a great shout, spilling seed all over Severus' fingers.

When he had recovered, they scourgified away the mess and pulled up the blanket. Severus scooted his backside into Remus, who wrapped his arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

"I liked doing that with you," Remus told him.

"Yes," Severus agreed. To say he had liked it would be an understatement. It had been the most intense experience of his life, and it would be some time before his hammering heart would allow him to settle down and fall asleep in Remus' warm, loving arms.


End file.
